


Presumptions

by Maiika



Series: Old West AU [12]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 11:02:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16173752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maiika/pseuds/Maiika
Summary: She met the sheriff of West City while traveling for a performance and then inexplicably, let him go.  Now that it's been a few years, she worries he won't remember her.  But she remembers him.She has to tell him how she feels, even if it makes her look like a fool.





	Presumptions

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the lovely @cozymochi who made me fall in love with her OC and love Yamcha even more

Marzi held her breath as she peered through pink sheer curtains at a bustling town responding to her arrival.  With a swift exhale, her breath flowed like rapids after the breaking of a dam. Her eyes first landed on the massive man in a fine grey suit tossing a ball to a boy who had to be between the ages of five and ten.  It was the man’s  _ size _ that caught her eye over the other sights, but the strolling couple near her stagecoach was also distracting.  A shrill cry from a baby took Marzi’s attention next, causing her to peer past the borders of her stagecoach window to see a lady with her hair up in ringlets beside a cooing older woman, leaning over a carriage together.  

 

A face appeared in Marzi’s window frame, cutting off her attention from the rest of West City.  “Howdy!” the young man exclaimed before he backed away to swing the door wide open. “Are you the actors?”

 

“Goku!” called a woman outside of Marzi’s view.  “Will you let them off the stagecoach? You of all people should know how... _ unsavory _ a person can feel after a long travel.”

 

Goku, apparently the young man turning his vibrant smile from Marzi, set his hand to the back of his head.  It shook his brown Stetson with a ferocity of nervous energy. Marzi frowned and tapped a finger to her lip as she turned her eyes on the other players in the coach.  Not mentioning the fact that they  _ did _ stink a bit and she was dying to get away from them after the long hours spent in this confined space, Marzi shrugged.  She didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t know who this Goku was or why he was the one greeting them rather than the sheriff she encountered the last time she was here.

 

The sheriff.  Marzi’s cheeks grew warm as she recalled his handsome face, his dark eyes defined by a memorable scar, his chiseled jawline, the way his strong hands held her fingers when she exited her carriage years ago.  She was a little disappointed he wouldn’t help her with her steps again. She frowned. She would be a  _ lot _ disappointed if she didn’t get to see him at all.  

 

Her eyes widened as she whipped around to face Goku.  “Goku!”

 

“Ah!”

 

Her hand flew a little too wide.  Marzi grimaced as Goku stumbled from the steps of the carriage cradling his reddening cheek in his hand.  He looked at her with a peevish glare, massaging the wound she’d unwittingly inflicted.

 

“What’d you do that for?” he barked.

 

“So-sorry,” Marzi said through clenched teeth.  “I, uh...was just gonna ask you-“

 

She heaved a sigh.  Could she  _ never _ come to this town with a graceful entrance?  She rolled her eyes as a chorus of sighs sounded behind her, the other inhabitants of the coach well aware of her tendency to blunder like this.  Now she’d upset a resident. If she couldn’t get along with the locals who were most likely Sheriff Puar’s friends, she couldn’t expect him to be overjoyed about seeing her back here.  Hell, it’d been a few years. Maybe he forgot about her. Maybe he moved on. She couldn’t expect an eligible bachelor  _ that _ handsome to remain available for long.  She was starting to regret her decision to play in this West City feature at Chiaotzu’s Saloon.

 

“It’s okay,” Goku said, surprising Marzi as he offered his hand.  “Just…be careful, will ya?”

 

Marzi raised a brow and lifted her skirt to clear her boot as she approached the door.  She could feel the other actors’ gazes burning into her back, so she didn’t dare look at them.  She knew she was holding up the entire company, who wanted to exit this coach as badly as she did.  

 

As Goku requested, Marzi made a point to be extra careful.  She couldn’t afford  _ another _ blunder on top of the one she’d just made and the one before  _ that _ three years ago.  Her eyes roamed her surroundings as she grasped the solid hand Goku offered her and stepped down from the coach.  A woman stood just off to the side, clasping her hands and smiling at Goku assisting Marzi as if watching a child of hers accomplish some great feat.  

 

“Welcome to West City,” she said as she turned her dark eyes to Marzi. “We’re so happy to have you here.  The children will  _ love _ your prehistoric play.”

 

“Oh, thank you,” Marzi said as she took the final step of her descent, wobbling off balance at the distraction of the compliment.

 

When her heels safely hit the ground, she closed her eyes and sighed.  It almost happened again.  _  Come on, Marzi,  _ she told herself.   _ Ask what you need to ask.   You can’t leave here without at least asking about him. _

 

“Um,” she said, licking her lips.  “Is...is Sheriff Puar still-“

 

Goku blinked.  “Oh!” As something dashed toward them out of Marzi’s peripheral view, he pointed at Marzi and smiled at the woman who scolded him earlier.  “Hey, look, Chi-Chi! She’s girl Yamcha li-“

 

His lips were abruptly sealed by a firm hand.  Marzi’s eyes traveled up the line of the arm attached to that hand, past the elbows rolled at the sleeves, to the smoldering dark eyes of the sheriff whose face had been burned in her memory for the past few years.  She gasped.

 

Yamcha Puar’s laugh was music to Marzi’s ears.  It wasn’t a confident laugh or one of mockery. It was nervous, tinged with pain, and riddled with awkwardness.  His reddening cheeks were proof of his awkward feelings, but Marzi knew hers were burning just as bright, maybe brighter.  His laughter was exactly the sound she’d been craving. 

 

A warm feeling emanated from Marzi’s heart as she struck her hand out, beaming.  “Sheriff Puar! Lovely t’see you again!”

 

“M-Marzi!” Yamcha said, tipping his hat with a trembling hand.  “I - I didn’t expect to see  _ you _ in the play.”

 

Marzi frowned.  “You didn’t? I traveled here in our stagecoach last time, with advertisements for this title painted on it and everything.”

 

Yamcha winced.  “You did, didn’t you?  I just-“

 

“Yamcha’s shy,” Goku said, breaking between them with a toothy grin, his eyes darting from Marzi’s face to the sheriff’s.  “We remembered your advertisement from last time and Chi-Chi wanted the kids to see it.”

 

Chi-Chi stepped forward, her hand now on the shoulder of the boy who’d been playing catch earlier.  “My Gohan loves learning about dinosaurs.”

 

The boy glanced up at his mother.  “Videl and Dende too, Mom. They want to see.”

 

Marzi smiled, her nervous feelings waning with the presence of a child excited about her passion.  She could see in Gohan’s eyes the spark of anticipation which no one could fake, especially not a child.  She knelt down to face him, beaming at the same time she heard the rest of the players descend from the creaking carriage behind her.

 

“You know what, Gohan?” Marzi said with a wink.  “I love learning about dinosaurs, too.”

 

Gohan furrowed his brows, his large, innocent eyes seemingly seeing  _ through _ Marzi.  “But you’re in the play.  You should know all about them.”

 

Marzi grimaced, her eyes darting unwittingly to Yamcha.  “I  _ have _ been doing this for quite a few years.  But there’s always something new to discover!  So many species still undiscovered!”

 

“Really?” Gohan said.

 

“Really?” Yamcha said.

 

Marzi smiled up at the handsome sheriff from beneath her hooded lashes.  “Really.”

 

This was her chance.  She could impress him in her field of expertise.  All she had to do was ask him.

 

“I-“ she shot to her feet, a wave of dizziness making her lose her train of thought as she came face to face with the lawman.  She steadied herself by grasping his shoulder and quickly withdrew her hand when he gasped. “I could show you some information before the show, if you’d like.”

 

She batted her lashes at Yamcha.  Hoping it did the trick. Wishing there weren’t a lot of other people, strangers from West City and her own company alike, watching this.  If he said no, she’d be mortified. Even worse, it occurred to her as she looked around that her offering  _ Yamcha _ a sneak peek rather than the show’s young, enthusiastic fan looked rather odd.  She pulled the brim of her hat down over her eyes, trying to hide her mortification.

 

An opposing force pushed her hat back up as Yamcha smiled at her, his cheeks a rosy pink.  “I’d...really like that,” he said with some strain. “Say I give you a few hours and you come meet me...meet me-“

 

He seemed to be losing his nerve, his gaze falling to his boots and his fingers twitching at the loops of his belt.  His teeth were bared as if he was struggling to get out what he wanted to say, but couldn’t. Maybe Yamcha was embarrassed with all these people watching, too.

 

A short, bald man swooped to Yamcha’s side and threw an arm over his shoulder. “Meet him at the sheriff’s office, all right?”

 

Marzi blinked.  “Wh-who are you?”

 

“Oh, beg pardon,” the grinning man said, “I’m a friend of the sheriff here.  My name’s Krillin. And yours?” he asked as he reached for Marzi’s hand.

 

“M-Marzi,” she said as she watched Krillin kiss her gloved fingers.  Marzi turned her eyes to Yamcha. “So...the sheriff’s office?”

 

Yamcha nodded fervently before meeting her gaze.  “If - if that’s all right with you, of course.”

 

“In a few hours,” Marzi said with excitement rising from her gut.

 

Yamcha smiled, the vibrant blush from his cheeks fading mildly.  “Sounds great.”

 

“Great!” Krillin said, clapping his hands together with a loud smack.  “It’s settled then.” He cupped his hand to the side of his mouth and stage-whispered to Yamcha, “you owe me one, Pal.”

 

Marzi laughed.  It wasn’t a dignified laugh or one she even intentionally let slip at their expense (there might’ve even been a snort), but she was relieved when Yamcha smiled, met her gaze, and laughed along with her.  Although she was thankful for the time to freshen up, she couldn’t wait for their meeting a few hours from now.

-

The sheriff’s office looked like a quaint little place from the outside, not unlike most of the town.  Knowing Yamcha was just behind that rickety-looking door, waiting for her, Marzi felt her heart bursting with anticipation.  It didn’t matter if the locale was grand. All that mattered was who was in it. She’d waited so long to see him again. Wondering whether he might have been waiting for this too, or alternatively, thought nothing of her again after she left West City, made Marzi’s gut twist and her smile fall with every step closer to the door.  By the time the porch stopped creaking beneath her boots and her hand was on the knob, Marzi was certain he could  _ hear _ her heart beating from inside.

 

She closed her eyes and turned the knob.

 

Something creaked from deep inside the room before she opened her eyes again.  The room was brightly sunlit. Her eyes were drawn straight to Yamcha, whose feet slid off the desk as his eyes turned on her.  He sat upright with a hesitant smile. Marzi stepped forward, unable to read the meaning behind his hesitation. Maybe he was hesitant for the same reasons she was - fear of rejection.  Or maybe he was only hesitating because he was uncomfortable with or disinterested in Marzi, and didn’t know how to behave around her without leading her on. 

 

Feeling a groan crawl up in her throat, Marzi clenched her teeth, but as Yamcha circled around his desk, she worried he could’ve heard her.  His eyes locked with her. His lips twitched in a smile as his cheeks and nose turned a hint of pink. 

 

It was so cute the way he blushed.  Yamcha’s  _ everything _ was cute.  He was just as Marzi remembered him from that day they met, and more.  In spite of her anxiety, Marzi couldn’t help clasping her hands together and sighing at his gorgeous face and physique.

 

A raspy laugh bounced off the distant wall.  “I’ll just get out of your two’s hair.”

 

Marzi jumped.  The old man rising from a seat in the corner surprised her.  She hadn’t even noticed him there. She pressed a hand to her chest and calmed her breathing as she watched him slide out the door shooting Yamcha a not-so-subtle wink.

 

Yamcha rubbed his neck as his eyes darted to Marzi.  “Th-thanks, Mr. Roshi. Have a good night.”

 

As the old man disappeared behind the piney oak, Yamcha stepped closer to Marzi.  They were alone and face to face. He could reach out and touch her.  _ She _ could reach out and touch  _ him _ .  Maybe she should.

 

“So,” Yamcha said with a shy smile, “you came back.  I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

 

Marzi smiled, batting her lashes.  “Have you... _ wanted _ to see me again?  I’m sorry! That sounds presumptuous of me.  H-“

 

“No,” Yamcha said sharply, shaking his head, causing Marzi’s excitement to wither with that one disappointing word of rejection, “that doesn’t sound presumptuous of you.”

 

Marzi clenched her eyes shut.  Of  _ course _ he hadn’t thought of her these past years.  She had to be one among many actors passing through his town.  He wouldn’t want to see her again any more than he would want to rewatch her dinosaur-themed performance.  She’d played the archeologist in their past West City play while her fellow actors had taken the parts of cavepeople interacting with prehistoric creatures in the flashback acts.  It was a very informative show. Educational, but also entertaining - at least to Marzi. Not something about which a rugged sheriff protecting his town, taking down bandits and guarding his territory from savages would ever think twice.  Of course he said he hadn't wanted to see her. 

 

Wait.  Marzi gasped.  She blinked and sputtered at Yamcha, whose patient gaze was fixed on her.  He  _ didn’t _ say that.  Instead, he’d agreed that her assumption didn’t sound presumptuous, although she realized now, it most certainly  _ was _ .

 

“It-“ she said, knitting her brows, “it doesn’t?”

 

“Miss,” Yamcha extended his fingers toward Marzi’s and lowered them with a sigh just short of making contact, “Marzi.  I don’t mind that insider prehistoric information, if you still want to share it. But what I’m really interested in - well…” He cleared his throat and averted his gaze toward the wall.  “Would you mind if, after your performance, I treat you to dinner tonight? I mean!” He gritted his teeth, but Marzi detected a trace of a smile in his eyes. “If it’s not too presumptuous of me.”

 

“No,” she said as she closed the gap, encompassing his warm fingers in a hand hold, “that doesn’t sound presumptuous at all.”

 

It wasn’t presumptuous of her to kiss him for the first time that night under the moonlight after she took her bows, either.  Just like it wasn’t presumptuous of him to wrap his arms around her waist and hold her like he would never let her go.

 

Her decision to lay down roots in West City that day might’ve been presumptuous, but then again, he was the one holding her here.


End file.
